Chapter 23. Thunderstorm

Chapter 23

Thunderstorm

I LUNGED FOR Sam. Either our attacker had bad aim, or they weren’t really trying to kill us, just make us think they were. Still, I didn’t want even a gr“ We need to run. ” I tugged on his right arm; he kept his palm clamped over the left, which undoubtedly meant bad things, but another spear of light stabbed my wing and there was no time to fret over him. The burning silk smelled like ash. “I’m not going anywhere without you. ”

His expression twisted, but he hauled himself up with a grunt. “It’s okay, ” he said. “Not even bleeding. ”

Shadows concealed our attacker, but it looked as though the shots had come from between two fir trees near the intersection. That was behind us, so they must have followed us from the masquerade. The same person who’d followed me the other night?

I freed my knife from my hair. I’d loathed it before, but they’d shot Sam. They’d get a hole in them if I had a chance.

Our footsteps pounded on the cobblestones as we ran. My stupid wings caught air and slowed me, so when I had both hands free, I clutched the wire frame and stabbed my knife through the silk, cutting gashes. I did the same to the other wing.

I led Sam along the left edge of the street, where starlight wouldn’t silhouette us and moonlight wouldn’t shine. If I’d been more confident, I’d have cut through yards, but my sense of direction was even worse in the dark. I wouldn’t recognize whatever street we came to.

The attacker continued shooting, bright bursts to our right. I glanced over my shoulder, but our pursuer hid in the shadows across the street, somewhere behind us.

“This road! ” Sam cried. We turned left, onto another tree‑ lined street. I took a fistful of his shirt and, as soon as we were around the corner, dragged him into the brush. Pine needles rustled, and the sudden shift must have twinged his arm because he cursed, but we took cover behind a bush and kept as still as possible.

Mindful of my knife and his injury, I put my arms around him and drew him close. His heart sped beneath my hand, and his breath hissed in quiet gasps. I petted his cheek while we waited for our attacker to run past, but the street remained empty.

My fingers stiffened around the knife handle as I began to shiver again, both with fear and adrenaline. By Sam’s ear, I whispered, “I’m going to look. ”

“Don’t. ” He clutched my waist. “You’ll get hurt. ”

“You already are. We have to get to safety. ” I slipped from his grasp, easy when I was covered in silk. “I’m just going to check if they’re gone. ”

He shook his head but didn’t try to stop me again.

Before I left, I bent the wires of my wings closer to my body, out of my way. Shredded silk dripped from ruined wings.

I tiptoed onto the road, straining my ears for noises that didn’t belong, but the thud of my own heartbeat was distracting. Couldn’t ignore it, either, or the rustle of evergreen boughs.

Wood snapped. I searched for the source, but shadows dusted the street like charcoal. One shadow moved, darker than the others.

I froze, stupidly obvious in my silly dress and tattered wings. Moonlight leaked across the street; I could half feel it on my skin, like a breath no warmer than the night. “Who’s there? ”

Behind me, Sam let out a string of curses.

“There’s no harm in asking, ” I muttered. “They’ve already shot at us. ”

I shouldn’t have spoken. A targeting light came from the shadow that had moved, and hit my left wing. Wire melted. I yelped and started running, shoes pounding on the cobblestones. Crashing sounds in the bushes signaled Sam coming after me, but when I looked, a new person emerged.

A large figure barreled onto the street, easily catching up to me. I pushed myself harder, but I was cold and tired. He grabbed my wing and jerked me around. I stared at a white mask that covered his entire face.

I struggled in the direction I’d left Sam, but my attacker seized my arm and threw me to the ground. Stinging raced through my elbow and thigh; my knife, which of course I’d forgotten about, skittered away. Warmth oozed as I scrambled to my feet.

He shoved me again.

I crawled toward my knife, just two steps away. Before I could reach it, my attacker plucked me off the ground and hurled me in the opposite direction. I screamed as limbs banged against stone. Blackness gripped me as I rolled onto my back, groaning at sharp fires everywhere.

Something dull hit my ribs. His shoe. I let out two weak oof s, and footsteps retreated. A pair of them, perhaps, but I couldn’t look to see. My whole body rang with numbness, cold, and heat from forming bruises.

I had to find Sam. My arms shook as I lifted myself to my elbows. Pain flared where the skin had scraped off, but it drove me all the way to sitting to avoid more stinging. “Sam? ” I sounded like a frog as I lurched to my feet.

The knife was where I’d dropped it. I stumbled, retrieved it in case our attackers returned, and shambled toward the bush. My whole body felt like a bruise.

Sam was prone on the dead grass. I dropped to my knees, sheathed my knife, and touched his throat. His pulse beat steadily beneath my questing fingers. “Wake up. ” I cupped his cheek; his skin was cold.

He moaned and opened his eyes, but couldn’t seem to focus. “Someone hit me. ”

“Let’s go. They might come back. ”

“Are you okay? ” He sat up and swayed. “I don’t think I am. ”

“You’ll live. ” We helped each other limp toward safety. If our attackers had returned, they could have killed us both and we couldn’t have done much about it.

It seemed like it took hours to get back to the house, and the streets of Heart were such that you could wander that long without ever meeting anyone until the market field, so there was no one to help us. Not even Stef, who lived next door. Though since we didn’t know who attacked us, it was probably better that we didn’t see anyone.

Sam flicked on the lights as we staggered inside. We winced at the brightness, but that pain was minor compared to everything else.

“You look awful. ” Before I remembered, I leaned on the wall for balance while I kicked off my shoes. The white stone, the same that ran around the city and doorless temple, chose that moment to pulse like a heartbeat. I recoiled and tripped over my half‑ off shoes, then landed on my butt next to a piano leg. My tailbone ached. “Ow. ”

“So do you. ” Dirt and blood streaked his face, and his sleeve hung open to reveal a nasty burn on his arm, blistered and red in the middle and black around the edges. He saw where my gaze landed, and grimaced. “It will heal. ”

“We should call someone. A medic. The Council. ” I dragged myself to my feet. “They need to know, right? ”

He nodded. “I’ll call Sine while I check that the house is empty. Stay here. ”

“Nope. Going with you. ” One advantage of our condition: He couldn’t stop me. “Why Sine, not Meuric? ”

“I trust Sine. ” He drew a ragged breath and braced himself on the wall as he headed for the stairs. The shelves groaned protest, but they held until he reached the banister. His ascent was slow – the blow to the head must have disoriented him worse than he let on – so I went behind, ready to catch him should he lose his balance. Well, I could soften his landing when we hit the floor. Maybe.

After he made a quick call and we checked all the rooms, I followed him into his washroom.

“She said she’ll look for a medic to send over, ” he said, “but it’s late and people are still hard to contact after the rededication. ”

“At this point, I’d rather just take every painkiller in the house and go to sleep. ”

He gave me a weak smile. “Yeah. ”

While he reached behind the curtain and turned on the spray, I fished out a handful of pills for him and filled a glass of water. He took them without complaint; I took a handful myself.

“Are you going to stay in here while I shower? ”

“Oh, no. ” I glanced at his arm. “We should put something on that. The water will hurt. ”

“Right. ” He slouched on the edge of the tub and didn’t complain when I helped him pull off his shirt, careful of the blisters. I placed gauze over his burn, then wrapped it in a waterproof bandage and moved to leave. “Hey. ”

I waited at the door where steam billowed out.

He met my eyes, suddenly focused. “Don’t go far. ” When I nodded, he closed the door halfway, enough that I couldn’t see him, but I could see his shadow in the steamy mirror while he undressed and then vanished behind the shower curtain.

After he finished, he helped me clean and bandage my scrapes before I headed into the other room for my turn. Hot water soaked through my muscles, easing some of the strain from hours of dancing, and getting thrown around the street. Some, but not nearly enough.

Nightgown‑ clad, I emerged to find him asleep on my bed. My painkillers had kicked in while I squeezed water from my hair, so I hoped that meant his had, too. I sat next to him. “Wake up, sleepy. ”

“I am awake. ”

“Prove it. ”

He opened his eyes and managed a smirk. “See? ”

I touched his chin. “No one mentioned that you get beat up after the masquerade. Seems counter to all the romance. ”

Sam pushed himself vertical and sat next to me. Our socked feet hung off the edge of the bed. “That wasn’t part of the plan. ”

“You had a plan? ” From where we sat, my butterfly dress was visible on the washroom floor, bent and shredded wings and all. Cheeks hot, I remembered what he’d suggested just before someone shot him.

His eyes found the dress, too. “I was teasing about that. Unless you were looking forward to it. Then I meant every word. ”

“Ask me tomorrow. ” The painkillers had numbed the aches across my body, but my mind felt ready to explode from today. “Do you know who attacked us? ”

Sam shook his head, then groaned and rested his face in his palms. “I think this is going to hurt for days. No, I don’t know. I have suspicions, but I didn’t see anyone. Did you? ”

“I think there were two. One shooting, who I didn’t see, and then a big man with a mask covering his entire face. ”

“That could describe a lot of people. ”

“He probably knocked you out so you wouldn’t be able to identify him. ” Sam might have figured it out, based on other physical clues and who was currently what age and which gender. I was the only one in the world who wouldn’t be able to even guess. A thousand emotions I thought I’d moved past came rushing back.

“Other than scrapes and bruises, you’re unhurt? ”

“Sure. ” But the whole situation infuriated me. There was Sam with his experience and the way he kept alternating between friendly and more than friendly; I’d been attacked somewhere I should have felt safe – creepy white stone walls notwithstanding – and then I was constantly reminded that I was the only nosoul in existence. The only person who didn’t see the beginning of Heart, or know everyone, or have something to contribute.

The butterfly costume had been the real me. Like me, it hadn’t lasted long. Wouldn’t be there in the morning.

I marched into the washroom and scooped up the silk and wire shreds. Futilely, I yanked at it as though I could rip it in two, but it was too strong, even destroyed.

With a wordless shriek, I flung it across the washroom, picked it up and threw it again. Wire clattered across stone and wood, but no matter how many times I hurled the costume remnants, I didn’t feel better. It was too light, too easy, but there was nothing heavier I could throw, nothing that was mine, anyway.

Everything here was Sam’s.

Costume included.

“Ana? ”

“What? ” I yelled, and spun to face him.

He stood in the washroom doorway, wearing confusion and something I couldn’t identify. Pain? His head hurt. My fit probably made things worse.

I swallowed back tears. “Sorry. Maybe, since we don’t know who did a bad job of trying to kill us, we should just go to bed. ” That would be better than subjecting either of us to this, and if I accidentally cried, only my pillow would witness it.

His gaze traveled from me to the costume, and the line between his eyes said he’d figured out why I was so angry. “I want to tell you something. ”

“I don’t want to hear it. ” I wanted to scream and kick things, but I couldn’t do that if he tried to make me feel better.

No, I wanted to be back at the masquerade, so close I could hear his heart beating over the music. I wanted that moment when there was no question who he was and I had a brave impulse – and I kissed him. I wanted him to need me like that again.

“I want to feel real. ” The words escaped before I realized, and I’d have fled the washroom in horror if he hadn’t been standing in the doorway. Instead, I turned away, leaned on the counter, and squeezed my eyes shut. Warmth trickled out.

His good arm circled my waist. “You feel real to me. ” When he tugged me toward him, I went. I didn’t know what else to do. “I can’t imagine what’s going on inside you now. ”

“Everything. ” I mumbled into his nightshirt. “There’s a thunderstorm inside me, swirling everything around. ”

He kissed the top of my head and didn’t let go.

“Can’t you make it stop? ” My throat ached with struggling not to cry more. I hated this, halfway hated him, except how I wanted him as much as I wanted music.

“I’d give anything to make things right for you. ” He caressed my cheek, my hair, my back. Everywhere he touched, the angry fires cooled. I wished he’d touch my heart. “But I can’t. I can help, but the hard work is all up to you. If you don’t feel real, no one else can do it for you. I promise, though, you’ve always felt real to me. From the moment I saw you jump off the cliff. ”

“Sometimes I still feel like I’m jumping off the cliff. ”

He nodded and kissed my head again. “Can I tell you something? ”

If he felt that strongly about it, I had little choice. “Okay. ”

“Come out of the washroom. ” He nudged me toward the door. “It won’t make your thunderstorm stop, but maybe it will help. Proof you’re real to me. Important. ”

I looked up and sought his haggard face, his eyes. How could I be important? I was an afterthought, five thousand years later. A mistake, because Ciana was gone. I was the dissonant note on the end of a masterpiece symphony. I was the brushstroke that ruined the painting.

“Come on, ” he urged, and I allowed him to guide me back into the bedroom, where he draped a thick white blanket over my shoulders. We curled up in the top corner of the bed, by the headboard and the wall. “Are you comfortable? ” he asked, when I was leaning against him.

“Are you? ” If I twisted, I could see his face from the corner of my eye.

He rested his cheek on my head. “When I went north in my last life, I was searching for inspiration. I hadn’t written anything new in a generation. I felt empty. I didn’t find anything no matter how far I traveled. I just died. That was autumn of the Year of Darkness, three‑ twenty‑ nine. ”

I waited.

“Usually, it takes a few years to be reincarnated, but it took just over a year for me to be reborn. ” From the way he said it, I should have understood what that meant.

“And? ”

He sighed, but his tone was endlessly patient. “That was the three‑ hundred‑ and‑ thirtieth Year of Songs. That’s your birth year, too. When we met eighteen years later, that was the first time in a generation I felt inspired, the first time I felt music in me again. ”

I couldn’t move. A million emotions flooded me – awe, joy, fear – and what did he expect of me now? I was raw inside, too much back‑ and‑ forth today, not enough just… happiness, like it should have been. So I didn’t move or speak, because I couldn’t.

His voice lowered, as though to cover hints of hesitation. “I think I died to be reborn with you. To find you in the lake. I found my inspiration. ”

“But you had to die for it. ” What a dumb thing to say. My mouth hated me.

He turned his head slightly, so his whisper came by my ear. “If I’d looked like a ninety‑ year‑ old man when we met, would you have wanted to be with me? ”

I wanted to be able to say yes, because I’d known him at the masquerade, and in all the photographs and videos from other lifetimes, but this was the Sam I wanted to kiss. As much as I felt for him, I couldn’t imagine being attracted to a ninety‑ year‑ old, at least not while I was eighteen. Maybe when I was ninety, too.

He gave a soft chuckle. “I thought not. I’d worry if you had said yes. Even people who’ve loved each other for lifetimes aren’t always attracted to each other when their physical ages are so different. It does matter, at least some. ”

Like what Armande had said about Tera and Ash arranging to be reborn as close together as possible. “That’s sort of a relief. ” I wished it didn’t matter. It didn’t change that he was five thousand years older than me, just made it easier to forget sometimes. “So it doesn’t bother you that I don’t have four digits in my age? ”

“Saying I never thought about it would be a lie, but it doesn’t change how I feel. Ana, you make me ache in places that aren’t even physical. ” He held me tighter, and for a moment I didn’t understand what that meant. Then I remembered how I’d felt while we were dancing. That yearning. “Does it bother you that I do have four digits? ”

“Well, you don’t look fossilized. And it’s helpful that you like girls your physical age. ” I bit my lip. “But it is sad that you had to die to get back here. ”

“Well, I’m glad about it. I’ve never been particularly attractive, but at least this way I have youth on my side. I don’t know how I’d have convinced you to stay with me if I was ugly and half‑ fossilized. ”

“Sam? ” I twisted around, freeing myself from his arms.

He tilted his head. “Hmm? ”

“You think too much. ” I took fistfuls of his shirt and kissed him, somewhat more confident now that we had a little practice, still nervous because I felt like we balanced on a razor blade. One wrong move and we’d slice apart.

His fingers curled against my back as I faced him, careful of scrapes and bruises, of jabbing each other with knees or elbows. “You were amazing tonight, the way you danced. Beautiful. ” He brushed his fingertips across my cheeks, chin, and lips. Down my throat, across my collarbone.

I splayed my hands across his chest, unable to move while he touched me like echoes of dancing. Softer, more delicate than before, but heavy with tension and – too amazing to believe – desire. How could he desire me?

Sam continued his mapping of my face and arms, completely engaged in his study. I took in his captivated expression until I couldn’t anymore, and closed my eyes, willing him to touch everywhere.

I didn’t have to understand why he felt this way. I could be grateful for now, and enjoy it.

Hands stopped above my breasts. He hesitated, and chose a path down the sides of my body. He made me tremble, made me ache inside. My heart wasn’t big enough to hold everything I felt, but I couldn’t bear the thought of asking him to wait while I caught up.

He traced patterns on my stomach. I held my breath, waiting.

“Ana? ” A mere whisper.

“I’m nervous. ” I kept my eyes closed and hoped he’d understand everything I couldn’t say. “I don’t know what happens next. ”

“Only what you want. ” He rested his forefinger on my chin until I met his eyes. He looked like he balanced on a razor, too, one side patient as ever, and the other– He looked like I felt, ready to burst from pressure.

“What I want. ” I slid my hands over him until cloth folded between my fingers. “I don’t even know what that is. It feels like too much, but I’ll fall apart if I don’t get it. ”

“You won’t fall apart. ” He lowered his eyes, smiled. “I won’t let you. ”

“You’re truly kind. ” Now that he wasn’t caressing me, I could breathe. I could think straight. “There’s a lot I don’t know. ” Such as, anything beyond what had just happened. No, I didn’t even know what just happened, just that it felt good. “Will you show me? ”

“A thousand things, whenever you’re ready. ”

There was a heartbeat where I could have been resentful of his experience, but I decided to be grateful instead. One of us would always know what we were doing, rather than both of us fumbling and messing up. “Not all at once. I don’t want to rush. ”

“I’m sure we can pace ourselves. ” His mouth turned up. “What do you think? One thing a day? ”

I considered, then shook my head. “Maybe two. A thousand days is a long time. ”

He laughed. “If you say so. ”

I withdrew from him and lifted an eyebrow.

His breath caught. “Okay, suddenly it seems like eternity. Two it is. ” While I struggled to figure out exactly what I’d done to make him react that way, he went on. “Unfortunately, I think we’ve used up our two – or ten – for the day. ”

“Did we? It’s after midnight. ” Using the shelf‑ wall to keep from falling, I stood on the bed and arranged my blanket over my shoulders again. The white cloth rippled like wings. “I think we have time for you to kneel down and worship me. ”

“Number two on the list. ” He sat on his knees and gazed up. “Number one was convincing you to like me. ”

He made it impossible not to smile. “Kiss my hands and feet, and you will be worthy of my liking. ”

“But those were five‑ ninety‑ six and five‑ ninety‑ seven. ”

I offered my hand that wasn’t keeping me balanced against the wall. “You were going to wait that long? ”

“You’re the one who said not to rush. ” He took my hand in his, pressed his mouth against the back. “Oh. ” His breath warmed my skin. “I just thought of a hundred more. ”

“Maybe three a day. ” As I sat, he held my hips to steady me. “Maybe ten, ” I whispered, kneeling with him. He held me so close; I rested my hand just beneath the bandage on his arm. “How does this feel? ”

“Like a burn. It’s okay. ” He kissed me, not deep like before, but just as sweet. A sleepy kiss while he struggled to stay awake. He so often guarded himself; it was startling to see him like this. “How’s that thunderstorm inside you? ”

“Already forgot about it. ” I didn’t want the hour to end. The Sam I always imagined was here, holding me. He liked me. I wouldn’t forget the moody Sam after the dragon attack, the Sam who’d been sneaking around every night, or the Sam who thought we shouldn’t have danced and kissed, but for this moment, with this Sam, I enjoyed the sensation of happiness. “Want to know a secret? ”

“Yes. ” He sat down, and I followed. If I pulled back the covers, maybe he wouldn’t leave. After today, I couldn’t stand the thought of being away from him. I had to keep him like this, the sweet Sam. The Sam who kissed me.

“Aside from the parts where we fought and were nearly killed and then I threw things, ” I whispered, “today has been the best day of my life. ”

His brown eyes drew me in as he said, “Mine too. ”

I was about to tease him about how this life must have felt so short, but something banged downstairs. We stiffened, both of us poised to listen when it came again. “Someone’s at the door. ” It was so late. “A medic? Or whoever attacked us? ”

He slipped off the bed and nodded. “Keep your knife with you, no matter what happens. ” Without so much as a last glance, he left the room.

I struggled into real clothes and tucked my knife into my waistband before creeping after Sam. From the balcony over the parlor, I could just see him at the door, blocking whoever had called.

“I don’t understand, ” he said.

“You’re under arrest. ” The high, youthful voice was familiar. Meuric? It was dim downstairs, but I could just make out another shadow in the doorway, maybe two others. I couldn’t tell. “There’s nothing confusing about that. I just hope you won’t make a fuss. ”

“But why? ”

“For conspiring to murder Ana, the newsoul. ”